


The Many Secrets Of Blake Belladonna

by Masterweaver



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterweaver/pseuds/Masterweaver
Summary: Yang Xiao Long knew that there was something up with Blake. Something about what she was doing had to be suspicious...But nothing could prepare her for the truth.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	The Many Secrets Of Blake Belladonna

**Author's Note:**

> A Secret Santa Gift for [FoxaOxa](https://foxaoxa.tumblr.com/). Have fun with this!

It should have been an easy mission.

Slow, sure, but that was the nature of espionage. You had to worm your way in carefully. Ask the wrong sort of questions, and you lose the trust of the target. And that was the risk, the tactical risk.

The tactical risk.

Don't get attached. Don't get attached. Every day she woke up, she would look in the mirror and tell herself: Don't. Get. Attached.

(And it wasn't like Blake would be _hurt_ if the mission went through, right? Maybe laid off...)

Don't get attached.

She knew, knew it could be another dead end. Knew that maybe she'd have to go back to the boss and say, yeah, shit, another goose chase. And then she'd have to pull up and be ready to go wherever the leads led her, and that would mean saying goodbye to Blake (don't get attached, don't get attached) and there would be... not tears.

Not tears.

Because she wasn't attached, and there was no way in hell Blake wanted her. She just thought of her as a friend. Casual chats over coffee after a long day. Sure, they'd been talking for months

(DON'T GET ATTACHED!)

but that was just what... friends did. Swapped stories. Shot the breeze. Asked how work was today, not too often, not too pressing.

Yang looked her reflection in the eyes. "Don't," she reminded herself. "Get attached."

"Don't get attached," her reflection repeated obediently.

Don't get attached, she thought firmly to herself as she ripped a chunk of toast off with her teeth.

Don't get attached, she wrote down on the inner surface of her metal arm, slamming the panel shut over her pistol.

Don't get attached, she reiterated as she swung onto her bike. Don't get attached.

And maybe, if that longing in her heart would stop bothering her, she could STOP telling herself that every fifteen minutes.

* * *

"Hmm." Blake slid into the chair across from her with a grin. "And how'd you know I'd be in the mood for a turkey sandwich today?"

_You were fifteen minutes late, so you were working overtime. You always want more than a pastry after that. As for turkey specifically, I saw you tap the air with a finger three times, that was you eliminating the first two sandwiches on the shelf mentally before deciding on the third--_

"A lucky guess," Yang replied with a shrug.

"Or you're a stalker," Blake shot back with a smirk.

"Stalkers have to be sneaky," Yang countered, fluffing her massive heap of blonde hair. "You really think I could pull that off?"

"It's always the ones you least suspect."

There was something behind Blake's light-hearted smile... something about the way it didn't reach her eyes, that set warning bells off in Yang's head. For a moment, she straightened up in her chair

_DON'T GET ATTACHED!!!_

and then she rolled her shoulders, leaning back. "Yeah, I guess. Seriously though, it was just a guess."

"Mmmhmmm..."

Yang frowned at that reaction, hiding it behind a sip of coffee. When the cup was back down, her expression was once again unperturbed. "What's up in your world?"

For a moment Blake's eyes widened--and then she relaxed, huffing a breath. "Interesting way to phrase it."

"Oh?" Yang asked, mentally adding her reaction to the List of ~~Interesting Quirks~~ Possibly Mission Relevant Details.

"What defines one's world anyway?" Blake replied, waving a hand vaguely as she took a sip of tea. "Like... if you asked any random person off the street what planet they live on, most would say this one. But that doesn't mean they actually know this planet very well. A lot of them just stay in one or two cities all their lives."

"Yeah, I guess so," Yang agreed, her own mind flickering over the memories of her cross-country travels.

"But that's not what you meant." Blake leaned over the table. "You wanted to know what my day was like. What new and interesting things happened to me, that I remember. The stuff that'll stick for a bit."

"Well, yes."

"So is that _my_ world? Where I live? In whatever memories I have?"

Yang tilted her head. "...That's _part_ of your world." Why did probing for information always have to lead to philosophy?

"Part... yes. Part is a good word."

Blake took a long, thoughtful sip of her tea.

"You know, this... us... I'd want to think this is part of my world too."

"Well, you can certainly be part of my world anytime," Yang offered. "Oh god, that was horrible."

"Not the worst I've heard," Blake replied with a little smile.

Yang waited patiently for her to start talking again.

"There are parts of my world," she offered, "that aren't parts of many others."

Yang leaned forward, casually, not _too_ eagerly. "Really?"

"Mmm." Blake looked at her expression and gave a playful smile. "Of course, that means I have to be very careful who I share those parts with," she added.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense." Damn it, so _close..._

"You never know who might be listening." Blake paused, deliberately. "Or... _what."_

* * *

Who or what.

Who or _what?_

She was playing with her, obviously, but Yang couldn't tell if she was playing like ordinary friends or toying with a spy. If her cover was blown, or not.

"Okay." Yang gripped the sink, taking a breath. "Okay," she said again, staring at her reflection. "It's a hook. It's a lead. She's reeling me in. Okay, fine."

Her eyes darted toward her metal hand.

"Okay fine. I knew that if I was right this time..." She sighed. "If I was right, I'd get attention. Yep. And that's what I've got. Attention."

The problem was that she didn't know what kind of attention she had. Was she just a really good friend? (acceptable) Was she somebody Blake was attracted to? (that could be nice DON'T GET ATTACHED) Or was this...

....

....

...a trap?

Take a step forward. Take a step back. There was no way to know, until she acted... and if she was caught--

Her hand trembled, briefly, before the metal one gripped it again.

If it was a trap... how much did they know about her now? How much had Blake told them? How much did Blake know?

Was Blake... a member? Or a victim?

Or a victim brainwashed into being a member--

"I don't even know what I'm looking for," she grumbled. "This could still be a false lead."

She sighed, turning away from the mirror and heading for her bed. Maybe things would be clearer in the morning...

* * *

Yang's eyes snapped open--

"Give me thirty seconds to explain," Blake begged--

\--and her hand stopped just short of the phone on the nightstand. "...okay."

"My ex-boyfriend wants to enslave me using a dark ritual and I only found out he's been working on it fifteen minutes ago and the only way for me to be free is to find my soulmate and I know you're a spy but I only have two hours before the spell goes into effect so can you help me break into a magical government building to use a complicated artifact?"

"...what."

Blake sighed, taking off her hat. "Cat ears. Fae. Literally a fairy. I swear I'll explain everything when I can."

"...I'm still dreaming, aren't I?"

"Wha--oh." Blake blushed. "Oh, I've... been in your dreams, okay, that's... you know what? Yes. Fine. If you think this is a dream, yeah. We've gotta move."

"Right."

Of course, Yang thought, she wasn't dreaming. Of course she wasn't. She knew what being awake was like, having to train herself to wake up on command--

"Just so you know," she said as she casually swung herself out of bed, "breaking and entering is kind of, you know, not something most people do."

"You invited me. Said I could be part of your world anytime." Blake waved off Yang's objection. "Fae magic. Complicated. Words are important... Your bathroom has no windows, right?"

"Uh--"

"I need total darkness to get us there," Blake explained. "And I mean total. We'll have to stuff a towel under the door crack."

Yang nodded. "Sure. Magic. Of course it's magic." Or, more reasonably, Blake could be trying to off her for getting too close to whatever secret organization she was part of.

Her eyes darted toward the phone. She could call headquarters now. She should call them...

...and yet, she was already walking toward the bathroom. "So you can't do this yourself?"

Blake bit her lip. "It's... likely they'll notice when I start messing with the artifact. But if they only notice me, _you_ can hide, right?"

"That's... a possibility." She quirked an eyebrow as her unexpected visitor bent down and started searching through the cabinets. "Towels are in the linen closet."

"Oh!" Blake rushed out and returned quickly. "Right. We only have until the new moon is at its apex."

"Right."

A sigh came from Blake's lips as she shut the door, plunging them into near-total darkness. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"It's a lot to take in at once," Yang allowed.

"I know, and... I'm sorry. I needed help. You were the one I thought of." Blake's voice, even in the dark, was heavy with regret. "There should have been more time..."

Yang reached out and put a hand on... well, she was pretty sure it was her shoulder. "Look, even if this is all some crazy sort of lie or scheme, you're clearly panicking," she said gently. "And that means you're in real trouble. Of course I'll help out."

"...thanks." Blake took a breath. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

The crack of light vanished. A hand, unseen, took Yang's own.

"Walk with me."

* * *

The bathroom was a tiny chamber in a tiny apartment and could not reasonably have stretched out for the ten minutes Blake somehow led them forward. That, more than anything, convinced Yang she was deep in paranormal bullshit. That Blake opened a door that clearly wasn't her bathroom door, letting light into a small room that had no bathroom fixtures at all, was honestly just confirmation.

"Is this an all shadows are connected thing?" she asked.

"It's a fae magic thing," Blake replied. "Our magic is about... agreeing on what the world is. So if there's nothing to see, then there's nothing to agree on."

"Is that how you knew I was, uh..."

"Not who you said you were?" She shrugged. "Sort of. When your magic runs on Exact Words, you learn to read what isn't being said as well as what is."

"I'm trying to move past the disbelieving 'omg magic is real' stage," Yang managed, "but it might take a while."

For a moment, there was a sly smirk on Blake's face. "Yeah, that happens a lot."

"Do you guys, uh, mind-wipe people who find out?"

Blake's smile vanished. "Well. Um. _I_ don't, and there's a lot of debate over whether it's ethical--"

"So you mind-wipe people."

"There's not a mind-wiping squad, if that's what you're thinking!" Blake assured her quickly. "Some people just... have that spell. It's one of the lighter shades of dark magic."

"Dark magic," Yang deadpanned.

Blake took a breath, leading her out into the hallway. "...what do you know about souls?"

Yang shrugged, picking up the pace to keep up with Blake's powerwalking. "Uh... they're the core of a person, they exist, you brought them up when I questioned dark magic so I'm assuming dark magic affects souls somehow?"

"Dark magic is what we call any magic that affects a person's soul, yes." Blake rose a finger, counting the doors off silently. "Illusion magic isn't dark, but literally changing somebody's belief is. Wiping somebody's memory is useful in therapy and, yes, coverups, but it leaves a mark on the soul."

"A scar?"

Blake's ears went flat. "It's _usually_ harmless."

"Usually," Yang repeated.

"Usually," Blake conceded. "Like a needle. Small prick. But it's possible to overdo with just mind-wiping, same as it is with needles."

Yang quirked a brow. "So if mind-wiping is needles, is there a dark magic scalpel or something?"

"A few. Generally anti-depressant magic or other 'beneficial' behavioral alteration spells." She caught Yang's horrified look. "Magic users, magic doctors. Can you tell me you've never heard of medicine gone wrong?"

The fallout of a past mission rose treacherously in Yang's mind. "No," she admitted, "I've heard things."

"Right." Blake paused for a moment. "Well, the ritual my ex is conducting is pretty much the equivalent of dark magic brain surgery. And he doesn't have a license. At all."

Yang hissed a sharp intake of breath. "Right. Shame I don't have any cold iron for this guy."

"What?"

"Uh... Fae, cold iron, it was--"

"Oh! Oh." Blake laughed, slightly hysterically. "You're thinking of _Fey._ A different branch of magical creature. My friend Ilia's one."

"Okay, I'm confused."

"She'd probably take that as a compliment. And anyway, Adam's a demon, so cold iron wouldn't do anything against him."

Yang gave her a concerned look. "You dated a _demon?"_

Blake cringed. "It's... a whole mess. I broke up with him after I realized he wasn't one of the nice ones."

"I..." Yang threw up her hands. "Sure, fine, whatever."

This night, she decided, could not possibly get any weirder.

* * *

"No, no no, no, no, no, HERE." Blake lunged through a door into a room with four lanterns on poles, rushing toward the array of interlaced bronze rings. "The resonance scryer."

"And it only took you forty minutes to find the right door," Yang quipped.

"This place is far bigger than I expected!"

"Alright, alright." Yang looked at the strange construction in the middle of the floor. "So what is this thing, and why is it important enough to have its own room?"

Blake paused, looking at her watch. "Okay--okay, I have time to explain this." She ran around the object, flicking various switches and dials. "Individual souls have, uh, resonances. Wavelengths. And soulmates are souls whose resonances amplify each other?"

"Wow. And this thing can find your soulmate?"

"In theory, anyway. I mean, souls change over time, and it's possible to have different soulmates." Blake gave an awkward laugh. "This is really, honestly, a last desperate attempt to find the one thing that can keep me from being Adam's slave."

"But if you use this machine to find a soul that resonates with yours," Yang concluded, "then that soul can resonate with yours and counter whatever it is Adam's doing?"

"Yes! That's right!" Blake sighed. "Of course, to resonate there has to be a strong bond between us. We'd have to know each other... or I'd have to find a total stranger and convince them to join their heart to mine before the apex hits."

"Hey, maybe you'll be lucky and your soulmate will be the guy next door."

"Or maybe," growled a new voice softly, "you should just lie back and accept the inevitable."

Yang spun around just in time for a big, meaty fist to hit her in the face and send her flying over the resonance scryer. Her training helped her recover from the blow and land with a pained breath, but the shriek of terror from Blake still made her flinch.

"I'm okay!" She wobbled to her feet, shaking off the ringing in her ears. "I'm fine. That..."

Her eyes narrowed at the horned man with fire roving over his head shutting the door behind him.

"That's Adam, isn't it?"

"Hmmm." The man's smile was not in the least pleasant. "And here I thought I had wiped your memory thoroughly."

Yang inhaled sharply. "You--you really thought I wouldn't have questions after waking up without an ARM?!"

"You should have cowered in your hovel like the insect you are." The demon turned his eyes on Blake. "How did you manage to find the one mortal defective enough to require my personal attention, love?"

Blake narrowed her eyes, reaching for the resonance scryer--

"NO."

\--and pulling her hand back when the bronze rings started glowing with heat.

"No," Adam repeated with grim satisfaction, "you don't get to have hope. Not yet. Not until you know your place." He strode forward. "You love me. You worship me. I am your hope. Your purpose. Your everything. I _define_ you!"

His fist connected--and Blake flickered, and was gone, and was behind him. "I define _myself!"_ she spat.

"Shadows cannot exist without light to cast them," he growled as he pulled out a sword. "Without me you are--"

A bullet rebounded off his forehead. Slowly, he turned to look at Yang, and the pistol she had just pulled out of her arm.

"...Fuck," she deadpanned. "Let me guess, no weapon forged by mortal kind can hurt you?"

"I really should have killed you back then." Fire crawled along the edge of the demon's sword. "Still... better late than never."

Yang jumped to the side as the first wave of flame came at her, trying to organize her thoughts. Her eyes fell on Blake as she charged at Adam--and she cringed as the sword swung at her, barely missing. The woman wasn't even armed, and her magic--

\--her magic.

The pistol whipped up, not aimed at the demon but at the lamplight in the corner. Yang pulled the trigger, the light snuffed out with the sound of shattering glass--

"WHAT?!"

\--and she allowed herself a smug smirk as she swung her gun around to the next corner.

Adam snarled as the second light went out, shoving his way past the resonance scryer and raising his sword. "You cannot delay the inevitable, girl!" he declared as he swung his sword again. "You will die, Blake will be mine, and this world will burn!"

Yang rolled out of the path of the flaming sword, raising her gun at the third lamp. "If you think all of that's so _inevitable--"_ She shot the third light out. "--why are you fighting so hard to _make_ it happen?!"

She was just ready to shoot the fourth light when Adam wrenched her wrist hard enough to burn it. She cried out in pain, dropping her gun as she cradled the wound with her metal hand--and then he lifted her by the scruff of her shirt, slamming her against a wall.

"YANG!" Blake cried again, rushing forward--and getting batted back by the blade of fire.

"So arrogant," he hissed as he raised his sword. "Just like last time. And now, not even with a weapon to _pretend_ you can hurt me." He chuckled grimly. "But, as you said, no mortal-forged weapon can harm me."

"No weapon," Yang rasped in agreement. "But this--"

Her metal hand curled up.

"--is a _prosthetic!"_

The tip of Adam's flaming sword skipped on the edge of her arm, melting it a little, but it wasn't enough to prevent the balled-up fist from slamming into his eyes. He roared in pain as he stumbled back, dropping her--and she snatched her fallen pistol, swinging it toward the final lamp.

With a final shatter, the room was plunged into near-total darkness, only the light from Adam's hair and sword illuminating anything. Yang took a breath, lowered her pistol, and shut her eyes. "Blake!"

There was a shout from her, a yell from him, a dangerously deep slurping sound...

...and then silence.

* * *

Yang, cautiously, opened one eye. Then the other. The room was pitch black. Not even the fire of the demon could be seen.

She stood up, carefully, trying to flip open the panel in her arm--and hissed when she realized it was partially warped, stuck. "Great. Just great." A cautious footstep... another... and on the third she encountered a puddle. "O...kay?"

"Yang!"

Yang turned toward the voice. "Blake?"

"Don't move! Just--I'm getting right back to you, I promise!"

"Okay..."

For another moment, there was total silence. And then--

With the click of a flashlight, there was Blake, relief on her expression. "Good, you didn't go through."

Yang blinked. "Through?"

"I, uh, dropped Adam off on the ocean floor," she explained. "Deep ocean, it's plenty dark down there. I could survive because I can sort of turn into shadows, but if you'd taken one more step before I got the light back on in here--"

"Oh." Yang looked down at the puddle on the ground. "Yeah, that wouldn't be good. Is he, uh..."

"He's... still alive," Blake admitted. "Demons are hard to kill. But with the weight of the ocean on him, he can't... move, anymore."

"Yeah." Yang took a step back from the puddle warily. "So... the scryer, thing."

"Oh, right! I still need to--" Blake reached out, but flinched when her fingers came in contact with the metal. "Still hot. And knowing Adam, it won't cool down... it won't cool down in time."

She sat down, wrapping her arms around her knees. "So... that's it. The ritual's going through. He's won."

Yang frowned, sitting down next to her. "Hey--"

"Yang, if he... if he gets me, he'll probably want me to kill you." Blake shook her head. "You should go. Now. Before I can't... before he makes me into something else."

Yang blinked. "I--"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"...well, I don't think you could do any worse then what he did." Yang wove her metal hand for emphasis. "I mean, he apparently cut off my arm and wiped the whole memory of the event. The whole reason I got into espionage was to figure out how the hell this happened--and I still don't know." A dry laugh escaped her throat. "I mean, I guess hell was literally involved--"

The metal panel swung open as she was gesturing.

"Oh, hell, that's great," Yang grumbled, reaching for it. "He manages to break the replacement for the arm he took--"

Her eyes fell on the words written inside the panel. One had been melted to incomprehension, but the other two were still clear enough to read.

Get Attached.

"...Blake," she said slowly. "What if... what if you don't need the resonance scryer to find your soulmate?"

"What?"

"What if you found your soulmate like... right now? Would that stop the ritual?"

"Not stop it," Blake clarified, "counterbalance it. If my soul is amplified by the resonance, the ritual can't warp me--"

"And how would your soulmate, uh, amplify your soul?"

"It... it has to be a strong connection. Love usually, romantic love most commonly, but that's not the only--why are we even talking about this?" Blake asked. "It's not like I can just... find a soulmate in the next half hour."

"...what if," Yang offered hesitantly, _"I_ was your soulmate?"

For a moment, Blake didn't react.

Then, slowly, she rose her head. "...it... could work," she admitted. "It actually _could_ work--but..."

She trailed off for a moment.

"...Yang. Look into my eyes."

"Wow, uh--"

"Please?"

Yang took a breath, looking into the golden eyes of the woman she had, repeatedly, told herself not to get attached to. And this time, she let her feelings break loose.

"...oh," said Blake.

"Yeah, uh--"

"You've been hiding this for a long time, haven't you?"

"Spy," Yang explained softly. "I'd have to leave on my next mission. Didn't want to break your heart... or my own, I guess."

Blake smiled gently. "Yang, I'm a Fae. You told me I could be part of your world anytime. I can join you anywhere you want."

"...well." Yang nodded. "Well, uh... then... maybe we can, you know, start dating? After tonight, I mean. With the moon and all--"

"The moon," Blake said as she leaned forward, "is not going to be a problem."

* * *

The briefcase snapped shut firmly. "You know, I still don't know how I'm going to file the report for this one."

"You found the guy that attacked you that one time, saved a girl from him, and he got locked up."

"Yeah, but Blake, the guys up top are going to want more details than that." Yang rolled her eyes as she turned around. "I mean, what do I say? 'Magic's real and I fought the devil?'"

Blake rolled her eyes with a grin. "You could say that, yeah."

Yang gave her a flat look.

"Or, you could say you don't have enough info." Blake grinned impishly. "I've told you almost nothing about magic, after all."

"Yeah, well... I've told you almost nothing about my real life," Yang pointed out.

"Oh, not _directly."_

"That's going to be a thing now, is it?" Yang waved her hand. "The whole 'hee hee I know something you don't know' thing."

"That was always a thing."

"Well yeah, but now it's going to be a thing, sort of thing."

"You know, for a spy you're very... clumsy with how you talk."

"I'm only clumsy around you!" Yang insisted.

"Oh?"

"You--uh..." She searched for something to say. "You are so enthralling," she tried, "that I can't always think straight."

Blake smiled wryly. "Thinking _straight_ might be the issue."

"Oh har-de-har. You know what, I'm going to spend my trip figuring out something super romantic for us to do for our first date."

"You'll have to think fast," Blake pointed out. "I'll be there before you know it."

She slipped into the closet and shut it with a wink. Yang was already rushing forward but, as she expected, Blake was gone when she swung open the door.

"Well." She shook her head with a small smile. "Yeah, figured."

Somehow, she was looking forward to her next mission.


End file.
